


got our aim, but we might miss

by Taeyn



Series: I have loved the stars too fondly [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Affection, Allergies, Christmas Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08, Sickfic, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 21:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17009343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taeyn/pseuds/Taeyn
Summary: “Griffin, what’s gotten into you anyway?” Kinkade asks, his grin equal parts amused and sympathetic. “You sounded dreadful at maintenance checks this morning too. I mean, it’s okay to take a day if you’re-”“Falling ill,” Leifsdottir finishes, as Kinkade nearly trips over Rizavi’s maze of tangled christmas lights, Rizavi chiming in with “-admitting defeat,” at the same time.-Or, the MFE pilots are about as good at love confessions as you’d expect.





	got our aim, but we might miss

“Griffin, what’s gotten into you anyway?” Kinkade asks, his grin equal parts amused and sympathetic as they navigate the common-area with a box of decorations. “You sounded dreadful at maintenance checks this morning too. I mean, it’s okay to take a day if you’re-”

“Falling ill,” Leifsdottir finishes, as Kinkade nearly trips over Rizavi’s maze of tangled christmas lights, Rizavi chiming in with “-admitting defeat,” at the same time.

“Uh-huh, ooh gee, thanks... ah-” James manages, quickly balancing his side of the box between his arm and chest as he muffles several more sneezes. His cheeks are visibly bright behind the crook of his arm by the time he’s done, enough to send Rizavi hunting around for less ways to wind him up and more things like tissues or a spare sweater or something.

“It could be an allergic reaction,” Leifsdottir considers, her gaze travelling across the room as she untangles another string of lights. “We haven’t had a real pine tree before, and we’ve also increased our mistletoe use in substantial proportions this year, one bunch to nine of the twelve corners from here to the MFE landing bay-”

“Rizavi’s not sure where Veronica’s planning to stand-” James winks through a heavy sniffle.

“Damn frickin’ right,” Rizavi grins widely back at him, then ugh, he might look like a drippy faucet but she gets up and hugs him anyway, best friends and all that heck. “And I’ll be hanging the rest between here and the canteen, here and the training deck, here and the dorms, and oh yeah, any other parts of the planet I’ve missed.”

“Well... m’here if you need a hand...” James rolls his eyes, and Rizavi can’t help hugging him a bit tighter, not only is he the absolute worst at sounding like doesn’t love them all to bits, he’s also congested enough that half his syllables have stuck together.

“You’re all good, my dude,” she laughs, then shakes her head before she gets any more soppy, what is it about the festive season and soppy emotions anyway? “Just rest up and feel better for whoever it is you want to impress tonight-”

“-which is no-one...”

“Because right now, you’re kinda rolling with that whole newly-undead vibe,” Rizavi continues, ignoring him. “And no, _not_ the sexy kind. See, I even steam pressed my uniform-”

“Really?” Kinkade says lightly.

“Which parts of it?” Leifsdottir asks, genuinely unsure.

Kinkade grins and teasingly holds up his hands, as much an offer to press the jacket himself as to prevent Rizavi tackling him to the ground.

“Truce, truce,” Kinkade laughs, then leans back against the wall, failing to look at all casual as he crosses his arms over his front. “Truce. I’m trying to impress someone too.”

“Are you really?” James says stuffily, his face half-buried in paper towel.

“You’re not,” Rizavi gapes in disbelief, momentarily distracted when the microwave sounds for Kinkade’s gingerbread cake. A day earlier Rizavi had been planning to shape their field nutrition bars into… well, more christmasy-shaped field nutrition bars, but Kinkade has since revealed himself to be an undercover ninja in cooking with yeast-based rations.

“Oh, he is,” says Leifsdottir, her concentration unbroken as she inspects the cake. “And incidentally, the paladin he’s trying to impress is making every effort to impress him too. They’ve both had feelings for each other for quite a while now.”

“Wow, okay then!” Rizavi says excitedly, struggling to keep still as she scrunches her fists in anticipation. “Did you guys like, overhear something? Or… wait, _paladin?_ _Which_ paladin? Did the other paladins spill it to you?”

“Did you hack the communicators in their helmets?” James offers. “Or just tail them when they try busting out some secret middle-of-the-night type mission?”

“I… yes, it was exactly like that, Griffin,” Kinkade deadpans, but even he can’t keep a straight face when his friends are doing such a godawful job of hiding their happiness for him. “Except just swap the hacking and tracking part for me knocking on Lance’s door with some flowers and asking if he’d like to come to tonight’s Christmas celebration with me.”

There’s a small silence.

“And, ah, he said that he would love to,” Kinkade finishes helplessly, unsure if he’s ever seen his team so lost for words. “And then we walked outside for a while... I don’t even remember what we talked about, just that I’ve never… talked… like that. Ah, Zavi?”

“Don’t mind me!” Rizavi wails, and Kinkade cracks an affectionate smile as she waves her hands at him to continue. “These are... festive-tears! That is very much a thing! Oh my lord, why are my glasses going all foggy?”

“That’s awesome, man,” Griffin says sincerely, the others turning and standing to attention as the common room door slides open, Officer Shirogane did mention he’d be round to offer his help.

They’re surprised instead to see Matt Holt, his uniform swapped in favour of his coalition flightsuit, hair swept into a loose bun and his helmet below his arm.

“Hey guys. Heckin’ awesome job on the decorations,” Matt says softly, but he really only seems to be looking at Leifsdottir, who relaxes and smiles back at him as if there’s no one else in the room.

“Have the best time tonight, okay?” Leifsdottir says fondly to Rizavi, who’s jaw has not-so-subtly dropped as she stares to Matt, to her fellow pilot and back again. “Parties kind of aren’t my thing… and I’ve been planning to teach Matt to fly an MFE for ages. After all…” she pauses, her smile quirking to something more wry. “-Matt makes me feel like I’m flying all the time.”

Leifsdottir laughs as Matt flails, blushing and looking quietly pleased as Matt dissolves into an incoherent outburst of _I love you to the moon and back that is the most romantic thing I have ever heard!_ She wraps James in a quick farewell hug, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly as she whispers,

“-please do tell him, Griffin. You’ve only got tonight.”

Leifsdottir’s fingers thread into Matt’s as they wish the others a happy holiday, Kinkade calling after them to fly safe and Rizavi bubbling with a thousand and one theories about when _that_ must’ve started.

_I know,_ James keeps thinking. _I know._

“Well. You two should scram and get ready already,” James says after a moment, his throat suddenly feels tight and sticky and it has nothing to do with being allergic to almost every plant clipping in sight. “I’ll hold down the fort and finish up with the tinsel and-”

“It’s cool, we have a bit more time,” Rizavi says gently.

“Yeah, I only really take five minutes,” adds Kinkade, then draws a breath and slowly lets it out, readying to say something more.

Which is when Keith appears in the doorway.

“We have less than zero time and I am leaving immediately if not sooner,” Rizavi declares, striding for the exit.

“I take hours. Days even,” says Kinkade, hurrying after her as James makes a strangled sound, stiffly adjusting his uniform while he begs himself not to sink into the floor.

If Keith’s mildly surprised he hides it well, his features softening as Griffin pulls his scarf up over his face, stifles a miserable-sounding sneeze and makes an apologetic gesture toward the christmas pine.

“Yeah,” Keith says quietly, offers a rueful sigh. “Weirdly enough, those trees really get to me too. They never used to...”

Griffin stares at him a moment, his eyes itching and bangs still flopped over his face. And then he sputters a laugh, clears his throat and shakes his head in despair, Keith raises an eyebrow like not a day since training has passed.

“I… did not know that,” James manages, and somehow it all seems more amusing than it should, despite the fact his heart is racing, despite being oddly close to tears. “This whole festive thing… I…”

James bows his head, quickly pinches below his nose and takes a breath.

“...was hoping it might make this place feel more like home,” he finishes. “Before you leave with the Blades tomorrow. ‘case I don’t get to say goodbye.”

Later, James can never be sure who leaned in before who, only that for him, the war ended in steady, calm stillness of Keith’s embrace. That he muttered _try and stop me,_ when Keith asked if he’d come with him.

That Keith’s smile felt like his first flight.

-

 

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading! c': comments & kudos are always adored and appreciated <3


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